


Pie and Prejudice

by emmykay



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Ficsnip, Regency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 04:01:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4506972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmykay/pseuds/emmykay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Check, Please Regency AU, inspired by Dranka's <a href="http://pocari-tears.tumblr.com/post/118549553789/save-me-from-the-sudden-au-ideas-screenshot-redraw">art.</a>  Credit for title and idea belongs to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pie and Prejudice

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a pie. Further, the grander the fortune, the better the pie must be.

“My dear,” said Mrs. Bittle, as she entered her husband’s sanctum sanctorium, “have you heard? Samwell House has come under the possession of a young man from the north.”

“Has it?” replied Mr. Bittle, his broad, pale, freckled hands holding the newspaper held in front of him, from behind which no expression would have been visible. "What is his name?“

"Justin Oluransi. Furthermore, it has been noted that he is rich. Very rich. What a fine thing to have in this society this season!” she exclaimed.

“How so?” asked Mr. Bittle.

“If we could arrange it for our Eric and our Adam to meet this man, then perhaps he could spread his influence to them.” Craftily, she looked at the unmoving newspaper. "I hear he also has two friends. If you could arrange it, Mr. Bittle, to go down and call upon him - “

"Perhaps,” Mr. Bittle said, “his two friends, Mr. Zimmermann and Mr. Chevalier, might also have some beneficial effect on our sons?”

“Perhaps,” Mrs. Bittle said. Her head jerked up, eyes narrowed at the unresponsive newsprint. "Mr. Bittle! How come you to know of these friends?“

"I have already called, and have come into an acquaintance with the fellows. Further, I have procured assurances that they will be at the assemblies next week.” Mr. Bittle laid down his newspaper with a small smirk and the air of someone not unhappy with the reaction to their revelation.

“Mr. Bittle!” cried Mrs. Bittle. "How dare you do such a magnificent thing and not tell me!“ She stood, her skirts, ever-present handkerchief and mob cap all in a flurry. "I must tell the boys! We have ever so much to do!”

* * *

In the yellow light cast by the oil lamps across the crowded expanse of floor, two handsome young men stood by an inner wall.

“What say you, then, Ransom, of the crowd this night?” asked the taller of the two, his pale skin highlighted by the sleek black of his hair. His icy blue eyes cut through the assembly like a knife.

“Jack,” said the other, much darker of skin and broader of shoulder than the first, liquid brown eyes revealing a gentler attitude than his friend. "I would say it is very pleasant, as expected.“

"They are all here to gaze upon the newcomers,” Jack scowled.

“I don’t mind,” Ransom said. "Even if you do. It’s most natural. And the visit from Mr. Bittle - “

"Jumped-up gentry if ever I saw one,” Jack said. 

“I felt he was most congenial,” Ransom said. "A welcome, a few questions, that is the way one does it.“

Jack snorted. "Two sons! I’ll bet the one has foul breath, the other a persistent tic in their eye. Neither capable of riding nor sufficient manners to make up for the lack of breeding.”

“Jack!” Ransom scolded. He subsided at Jack’s apologetic dip of head. "Regardless, Merdique appears to be enjoying himself.“ They looked at the dance floor, upon which the third of their trio was handing off his partners one by one as he spiraled through the complicated steps.

"Merdique would enjoy almost anything but his actual family,” Jack commented. "Even this poor country assembly.“

"I would say not poor,” said Ransom, his survey halted by the appearance of a tall, blond man just being handed off by Merdique. "Not at all. Who,“ he asked, wonder in his voice, "is that vision?”

“That is my brother,” said a short, fair blond who had appeared at Jack’s shoulder. "Adam Birkholtz Bittle. Pardon me for introducing myself, but it was most opportune. I am Eric Bittle. I understand that you have come into the acquaintance of my father.“

At the announcement of the last name, Jack froze. 

"The pleasure is all mine. I’m Justin Oluransi,” said Ransom. He looked out toward the dancers. "Your brother appears well partnered.“

"He has not found a partner to his satisfaction, if that is what you are asking. I am sure that he would welcome a new partner at the next set,” Eric smiled.

“The next dance, you say? If you would excuse me,” Ransom said, flashing a bright smile as he broke from them.

With great hauteur, Jack ground out, “Pleasure, Mr. Bittle. John Zimmermann.”

Eyes narrowed, Eric said, “I know who you are, and what exactly you think of our little country pleasures, Mr. Zimmermann. And for all that, I wonder exactly why you’re here.”

“Mr. Bittle, I apologize - ”

“Are you apologizing because you have offended or are you apologizing because you have been caught?” Eric challenged, black eyes snapping.

“If I have offended - ”

“I would apologize for overhearing your conversation, because it is indeed that I am sorry for having heard any of your side of it.” With a toss of his hair, Eric made to storm off, pausing in his stride to inform his listener, “There is none with persistent tics nor foulness of breath in any side of my family!" Then he vowed, “And you shall never, ever have a bite of any pie of mine!”

**Author's Note:**

> It's a silly thing, but I really love Regency AU's and Dranka's art.
> 
> (Originally posted on tumblr.)


End file.
